


and in the dark i can hear your heart beat

by burglarbilbo



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: First Meeting, M/M, Pre-Movie, Time Skips, a couple times in malta, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25473229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burglarbilbo/pseuds/burglarbilbo
Summary: “There’s more to it than this,” Yusuf says, in accented Italian.The man’s expression softens. He lowers his sword. “Nicolo di Genova,” he says, holding out his hand.“Yusuf al-Kaysani.”That’s how it begins.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 21
Kudos: 274





	and in the dark i can hear your heart beat

Yusuf dreams of a man with eyes the color of the sea and a long sword glinting in the sunlight. He dreams of the man night after night, and after the third night in a row he wonders if this man isn’t merely a figment of his imagination. 

Yusuf fills whole notebooks of drawings of this man in his dreams. He draws in ink, charcoal, pencil, whatever he can get his hands on, reasoning that if he can get the man out of his head and on paper, the dreams will stop. In the past months, he’s constantly been kept awake by them. As if the war raging on around him isn’t enough, the man in his dreams prevents him from resting. 

God calls Yusuf to defend the Holy Land a year after his dreams start. 

It’s on the battlefield, covered in sweat and blood that isn’t his, weighed down by his armor and his fatigue, where he sees the man from his dreams. 

_ You’re real,  _ he says, but the man moves to strike him with his long sword (glinting in the sunlight). Yusuf doesn’t catch what the man says to him in return because he’s driving the point of his scimitar through the man’s torso, through a weak point in his armor. 

When he comes to, as he knew he would, the man from his dreams is also waking up (as Yusuf had a feeling he would). They kill each other again, this time both of them put up more of a fight, and though Yusuf is able to slice the man’s throat with just the tip of his scimitar, the man strikes the inside of Yusuf’s thigh. They bleed out side by side. 

It happens like this many times more; each time God brings him back, Yusuf has to wonder that it must be for a reason, there has to be more to his life than killing and being killed. Did God not call him to defend Jerusalem but perhaps for a different reason? The thought resonates in the back of Yusuf's head each time he is healed, each time he takes another blow; until now he has never been brave enough to acknowledge it. Something is different now, he isn't sure what, but something. 

Daylight is fading, the sun has dropped below the desert horizon, and Yusuf is _tired._

As the Italian soldier moves to strike him again, Yusuf holds out his blade to his side and drops it with a muffled _CLINK_ __ into the bloodied sand around them. 

The man pauses, holds his sword at the base of Yusuf’s throat, where he’s pierced the delicate skin before. 

“There’s more to it than this,” he says, in accented Italian. 

The man looks at him, wary. 

“God brought us back,” Yusuf continues. 

The man’s expression softens. He lowers his sword. 

“Nicolo di Genova,” he says quietly, holding out his hand. 

“Yusuf al-Kaysani.” 

That’s how it begins. 

~ 

**Malta, 1149.**

“You are a gift from God,” Nicolo whispers into his skin. It’s the third time he’s said it to Yusuf, and the first time he’s done it while Yusuf is awake. They lie tucked in together at an inn overlooking the sea, limbs entangled, soft candle light casting a warm glow over the two of them. 

Yusuf opens his eyes, one before the other. 

“I knew it!” Nicolo exclaims, smiling. 

Yusuf laughs. “You knew I was faking?” 

Nicolo nods. “I can tell. I can always tell.” 

Yusuf sits up and kisses Nicolo’s bare shoulder, planting his lips just above a little mole. Nicolo smiles. 

Their first time in Malta is a quiet declaration of love, enjoying each other’s bodies in moonlight. 

It’s different, but the same, learning Nicolo’s body through gentleness rather than violence. Yusuf memorizes his joints and muscles and bones, this time not to tear him apart but to bring him pleasure. He memorizes where to kiss Nicolo to make him gasp and moan, how to touch him, how to bring him close to the edge and over it. 

By Nicolo’s movements, Yusuf knows he is doing the same. Decades spent together as travelling companions and they are finally able to define what they've built together over the years. No words exist in any of the languages they know, but their actions speak loud enough and precise enough for both of them. They come together twice that night, and several other times apart, and laying together in the aftermath, as the sun rises over the sea, Yusuf knows love like none other in his lifetimes. 

~

**Malta, 1499.**

Centuries later, the two men return to Malta. Nicolo promises Yusuf that he has a surprise planned and during their first few days in the city, Yusuf spends most of the time alone. He wanders down to the seaside, buys little trinkets at the bazaar, even decides to pray one afternoon.

It’s the third day Nicolo has been away — he’d kissed Yusuf goodbye that morning, rising with the sun and disappearing before it had a chance to seep into their room through the curtains — and Yusuf misses him. The last time they were here there was hardly a moment they spent apart, and there’s only so much Yusuf can do by himself. 

So he prays. He takes out his green and gold  _ sajadah _ from his things, under the armor he hasn’t worn in decades, and lays it out facing the window, facing Mecca. 

He hasn’t prayed often lately, but the words are muscle memory on his tongue. Yusuf doesn’t ask for much from Him, but he does ask for as many years as possible with Nicolo. He asks for time, nothing more and nothing less.  _ Don’t take him away from me.  _

He thanks God for bringing the two of them together, as he always does. He doesn't know if his immortality is true, if God will really let him live forever, but as long as he gets to spend his time with Nicolo, it will all be worth it. 

Nicolo returns early that night, as Yusuf is soaking in the bath, head tilted back, eyes closed. 

“You’re back,” he says, in Italian, not opening his eyes. 

“You look beautiful, Yusuf,” Nicolo responds, in Arabic. 

Yusuf opens his eyes and smiles up at Nicolo, who is standing naked on the cool tile floor, drinking in his form, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“I have something for you,” Nicolo says. He kneels down next to the tub, leans his forearms on the rim, his left hand still closed in a fist. Yusuf kisses Nicolo, he can't resist it, before leaning back to see what Nicolo has to offer him. 

Water sloshes over the rim of the tub as Yusuf moves and Nicolo exclaims as he’s splashed, laughing, and Yusuf can’t resist pulling him in, spilling even more water onto the floor. 

“Watch it!” Nicolo exclaims in Italian. “You’ll lose my surprise before you even know it.”

“Tell me, Nicolo. You’ve kept me waiting for days. What is so important that you would leave me lonely?” Yusuf pulls Nicolo into his lap, as best as he can, Nicolo’s legs hanging out off the side of the tub. He kisses the side of Nicolo’s neck, just under his ear. 

“These.” Nicolo opens his hand, a pair of rings sitting in his palm. 

“Rings?” Yusuf says. He takes one of them and holds it to his eye, examining the metal. He knows exactly what it is and where it came from; the metal and its distinct flowing texture, like teardrops in a rushing river. 

“Damascus steel,” Yusuf whispers. “You made these from…” 

“Our daggers,” Nicolo finishes. He takes the one from Yusuf’s hand and places it on his right ring finger. Wordlessly, Yusuf does the same for him. “We were bonded by them years ago when we killed each other with them, and now we can be bonded by these. No more violence to hold us together.” 

“Damascene steel never breaks,” Yusuf says. 

“Neither will we.” Nicolo takes Yusuf’s face in both his hands and kisses him, soft and slow and languid. Yusuf can feel the metal of his ring on his cheek, cool and calming. Somehow, it makes their kiss feel different; there’s more weight to it. Yusuf already knew there will be no one after Nicolo, he’d known this after their first kiss ages before, but this… this is new. 

“I love you more than words can say,” Yusuf says, pressing his forehead to Nicolo’s.

“And I you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> i noticed in my many rewatches of the movie that joe wears a couple rings on his fingers, one on his right ring finger and.... naturally i had to write something about that. title is from florence + the machine's cosmic love
> 
> please correct me on any errors not caught in editing! i super appreciate constructive criticism and any comments y'all might have. as always thanks for reading!! <3


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